Reunion In A Restaurant In Michigan

Inseparable

Alfred POV

It takes Ivan two weeks in the hospital and another one at home before he's himself again. I know he's back when I send him a goofy picture of myself, and he sends one back of his face completely obscured by his Scarf™.

It's about another week before he finally leaves his room and sees me sitting at the dinner table. Against my wishes, Mattie also tells Kat that I collapsed again and will need to sleep. So it's another two days before I see Ivan again.

When I determinedly ride my bike over there, I'm still faint, and a three-day migraine is still in full swing. Mattie is watching from the kitchen window, worried. He never relaxes these days. I just wish he would.

Ivan's so shy and anxious, it's like when we first met in ninth grade. He was so timid then, he could barely talk to people until he began hanging out with me more.

Ivan sits by me at the table, but hides his face like a turtle and squeaks like a mouse. Honestly, he's such a dork.

Well, what do I do to bring him out of his scarf? A hug attack, of course.

He hugs me back and then peeks his eyes out of his Scarf™. "I'm sorry, Alfredka. I'm very sorry for going off medication and then letting my issues uh...uh...make things stressful."

I sternly look at him. "Please don't randomly go off them again. I know you hate them. Just...please take care of yourself, dude. I forgive you, of course. I'm just glad you're okay now."

He nods, his nose emerging from the Scarf™ next. "Дa! I will do better now at taking care of myself."

I smile in relief. "Good. You feel up to going anywhere today?"

His face goes a little pink. "Depends. Are people talking about me? I don't want to see their looks and whispers."

Glancing at the little flower garden outside that he and Kat tend together, I answer. "When the grocer asked about you, he was just relieved you were found. The florist lady wanted to give me flowers to give to you. That's where those poppies in your room came from, when you were still sedated."

Now only his eyes are visible, the rest obscured by fabric. "Really? I thought everyone looked at me like a freak."

I shake my head, surprised. "No, Ivan. They love you around here, dude! The kids love you, the florists love you, everyone likes you, dude."

He shakes his head, eyebrows scrunched in disbelief. "But...but...I hear their whispering. And I can feel their looks on my back. Are you saying that is all in my head?"

I shrug. "Maybe they're waving hello at you when you turn your back. Maybe the whispers are-"

"-just my imagination."

His piano fingers are knotted in the fabric around his neck. A timid smile is on his face. "They like me? I'm likeable? I thought I was just a sick weirdo."

Frowning, I boop Ivan's rather large nose. It's an attractive feature on him. "Who told you that, dude? I'll punch them!"

He bitterly chuckles. "Asshole 1 and Asshole 2."

At my look of confusion, he points to his head. "Them. They aren't so nice. My counselor is helping me with that. And I don't doubt you'll punch them. I saw that dented punching bag in your room."

Proudly, I flex my arm. I've lost muscle mass from narcolepsy, but since I started working out again, it's slowly coming back. "I never knew they bullied you, Ivan. I thought they just..."

He smiles humorlessly. "....made me paranoid of everyone? They do that too. But so often, they're insulting me or leading me to believe no one likes me."